"Well, well, well. If it isn't miss Annabel James," Terry's voice called to me. My head throbbed so I kept my eyes closed. "Wake up!" he called, pulling my hair, holding my head up to face him.
I winced out in pain and realized that my hands were tied behind my back. I'm in that kitchen attached to that metal bar where the stove is supposed to go. Just through the door way, I could see the room that held his radio and a small mattress.
"Let me go," I said, but it only came out a whisper.
"I could, but I won't. After all, it's not like I brought you here,” he said letting my hair go. He stood up and crossed his arms. “What are you doing here anyway?"
"I came to save my friends."
"S-save your friends? I don't know what you're talking about, but I don't like people trespassing on my prop
